


Cigarettes and Medicine

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Life and Times of a Risen [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Foreshadowing, Pre-Collapse, kinda cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: Just weeks before the collapse, Arcturus and Angélé go about their day blissfully unaware of their impending deaths.
Series: Life and Times of a Risen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/643955
Kudos: 2





	Cigarettes and Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> I just kinda wanted to write this, so I hope someone likes it.

Arcturus finally collapsed against and opened the front door at 11pm with a relaxed sigh, sliding his keycard through the lock with a whisper of metal on plastic and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket with his free hand.  
“Those will kill you eventually” comes the predictable response to his entrance. Arcturus grins and mouths along with the next few words, “when I have finished my degree, I am going to develop a way to kick that habit.” A thrown cushion hits his shoulder and he can’t help but laugh.  
“I know I know, it’s a horrible cursed addiction” he throws the cushion back and sits by their open window, facing down the street and watching the cars drift by as they pull out of the recharging station. “You want one?” He offers her the pack.

“Hmm” Angélé considers for a second. “Oui, I suppose.”  
“Terrible addiction” Arcturus snarks as he pulls one out for himself, fishes his silver zippo out of the top pocket of his waistcoat and lights up. He takes a drag as Angélé takes a seat between his legs, back leaning against his chest; leaving his cigarette hanging out of the window so he doesn’t accidentally drip ash in her hair. She pulls the offered pack and his lighter from his fingers and lights up herself, and he feels the deep breath as she takes her own full drag.  
“Stress relief” Angélé sighs, her accent bleeding through heavily as she fully relaxes. Arcturus laughs into the back of her head.  
“We’ll have to kick it someday”  
“Not now,” she takes another deep drag and holds the smoke, “I have too much stress to get through with school.” She exhales fully and watches the smoke curl out of the window. “You,” she says pointedly, “do not have that excuse.”

Arcturus takes another drag of his own and lets the smoke go with a chuckle.  
“Guilty as charged, but I have to maintain an image.” He gestures down his formal work clothes and shined shoes, “working in a posh casino is a lot of work you know.” He can practically hear the eye-roll he gets in response.  
“Of course, how could I forget, l'image l'emporte sur tout.”  
“Oui, mademoiselle” he replies, tongue in cheek as she cringes horribly at his accent.  
“You really should learn to speak properly” she chides him, with another drag at her cigarette. Arcturus snorts and smoke rushes from his nostrils.  
“J'essaie, mon amour,”he gropes for the words he wants for a second, “peut-être que le problème vient du professeur.”

A sound of disgust comes from the woman in front of him and Arcturus takes a final pull on his cigarette and holds the smoke in for a second or two before releasing it as he flicks the remnants out of the window.  
“You are merely a terrible student” she tells him, finishing her own cigarette and lighting up a second one. Arcturus pulls his lighter and pack from her fingers and does the same, they’re silent for a time, watching the cars and students crawl down the street beneath them.  
“There’s a storm coming in” Arcturus points to the horizon and the black, heavy Venusian clouds drawing over the mountain and into the Ishtar Sink, lit from within with flashes of bright blue.

The smile on Angélé’s face widens and she takes a deep drag as she watches the clouds roll in.  
“J'aime les tempêtes” she whispers and Arcturus laughs softly.  
“I know, I got that message when you got out of bed at four in the morning to go and stand in one on our balcony.”  
“Hmph” she grumbles at him, emitting what he can only describe as ‘disgruntled french sounds’. He takes another long drag on his cigarette and watches the smoke curl out the window into the raindrops that are just starting to fall. Angélé yawns and smoke creeps out of her nose before she exhales the remnants and takes another pull.

The storm rolls in more fully, the rain gets heavier and heavier as they both finish their cigarettes and Arcturus tucks his pack and lighter away, fishing a pack of cards out to fidget with. Z cuts, shuffles, flicks, just to keep his hands busy while he thinks and enjoys the company of his fiancée.

He fans the cards in front of Angélé, she pulls one, glances at it, never really taking her eyes off the storm, places it back in the pack, cuts it, and watches out of the corner of her eye as he performs five cuts and a flick; ending up with the deck in his hand and her card in-between his pointer and middle fingers.  
“Mmm” she hums in acknowledgement of his success, and he starts again, shuffling and finding her card again and again in one of their little rituals.

The storm thunders down outside, fully in swing, Arcturus’ fingers don’t still even as his attention switches more fully to the storm. He flicks three cards out and tucks the Queen of Hearts into Angélé’s fingers with a shit-eating grin, followed by the Ace and then the King.

Angélé yawns and tucks the cards back in without looking, and Arcturus goes back to just his fidget shuffles as they watch the rain together; his rhythm doesn’t still despite the thunder overhead rattling the window pane and the street being lit by lightning more clearly than it ever is during Venus’ five thousand hour days.  
“It’s going to storm all night.” he murmurs into Angélé’s ear, she nods, eyes still fixed on the storm.  
“Mhm” is all the acknowledgement she gives, enthusiastic though it is, he’s nowhere close to the centre of her attention right now.

"Don't you still have studying to do?" He asks, riffling his cards together as the subtle fwip sound is almost completely drowned out by the storm. She shakes her head under his chin.  
"I was studying ahead." He gives a hum in agreement before her phone interrupts him with a "call incoming" sound.

Arcturus gives a betrayed glare at the transparent sandwich of glass on the coffee table while Angélé taps her earbud.  
"Oui, Maman?"

The casino dealer tunes out the rapid-fire French spoken far, far too quickly for his foreign ears to possibly comprehend and waits for his translation. Soon enough Angélé turns and mutters quietly into his jaw.  
"We're visiting next week for two weeks at the villa." He nods as if he had any say in the matter and turns back to the storm that's busy soaking the street, the smooth tarmac a glossy black as the droplets splash constantly along its length. Angélé continues to chatter to her mother and sister on Earth for a few more minutes before she disconnects the call and falls silent.

They watch the droplets stream down the glass and listen to the thunder touch their bones for hours, until eventually Arcturus shuffles his cards back into the packet and gently pushes Angélé off his lap to go and make dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> translations:  
> "the image is the most important thing"  
> "I try, my love, perhaps the issue is with the teacher"  
> "I love storms"
> 
> P.S. I'm sorry for my atrocious French I wish I was better with languages


End file.
